


Dragon Skull Flower Shop

by Lucy_Black



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, HorrorTale, PTSD, Underfell, but I probably won't get to them, character death in the background, horrocest in the future, it's not as dark as it looks, mild suicidal thought, tattoo artist x florist, traumas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:40:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Black/pseuds/Lucy_Black
Summary: Blood is ready to start over (or so he is told) and her old friend's offer of a place to live seems like a good starting point. If he only knew the secrets that were hidden in the house... But he need not despair, not all flowers have thorns.
Relationships: Papyrus/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Despite being classified as Horrocest, I'm not really going to reach them. This story focuses on how and why Blood opened his flower shop.
> 
> I have practically no knowledge of trauma, PTSD, psychological illness, or the like, other than what I saw on programs and serials, so I apologize right now for anything I have written that does not live up to reality. Sorry for bad English too
> 
> This story emerged from AU Tattooist Sugar x Florist Blood by Redtomatofan. I was just thinking about how magic tattoos would work on monsters (especially skeletons) and then how Blood would become a florist... well, that idea had to be written down or it wouldn't leave me alone.
> 
> So here it is!

Blood got out of the taxi and looked at what his future home would be. Honestly, after all that Toriel had said, he hoped the place was in a deplorable state and not just badly looked after.

The building was made of three-storey exposed brick, with a large window that served as a showcase on the first floor and a solid-looking door on the side. On the second floor there were two smaller windows and only one round in the center of the third.

Apart from some weeds growing at the base of the building, and some parts stained by the weather, it seemed in perfect condition to him. Of course, it was enough to take a look at the well-kept buildings next door to notice the difference.

The house was in a small business district, nothing too extravagant, but certainly a good one. 

Before he even got out of the car he had checked his surroundings and still couldn't define what he felt with what he saw. On the one hand, seeing all the buildings so well treated around him, the security cameras, the types of monsters circling around, gave him a feeling of normality and welcome security, but on the other he only did him if feel more inadequate and out of place.

Well... at least the house seemed to match her condition.

He took a few steps and leaned over to look through the window without success. The interior was dark, the glass very dusty and with all the light coming from outside it was impossible to see anything inside.

He could almost physically feel the tentacles of anxiety, which had been crawling through his mind since he got into the taxi,stirring ready to grab him and pull him into the dark abyss of panic.

Tightening the jaw and closing his sockets, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

Why was he so agitated? It was just an old house, (an old house that had belonged to his old boss... the one he couldn't save) he had nothing to fear!

The first embers of frustration arose and he fed them, while opening the orbits and forcing himself forward, hoping that he could make them grow large enough to become flames of fury (because destructive fury was better than paralyzing fear).

For a second he thought he couldn't get his hands out of his pocket (while Toriel's voice vaguely reminded him that continuing to cling to anger and violence was not the answer), but when he realized, he had already raised his arm with the key firmly attached on his fingers (even if he couldn't feel the metal in his bones... and that foreign feeling of being a spectator in his own body only increased the dissociation he felt with everything around him, suffocating his senses, suffocating him...).

The door slammed against the wall, raising a cloud of dust that immediately entered its orbits and nasal slits. The resulting bang lifted him out of his "trance", but almost made him head into the state of panic he had been trying to combat.

He staggered coughing while the uncomfortable and tiny particles pricked the magic within his orbit.  
A part of his mind knew that he was in what was one of Asgore's properties, which Toriel had allowed him to live in exchange for him to look after her. But the other, the one that seemed to rule his fucking life now, was showing a very different scenario.

The thud of the door echoed in his skull, reminding him of the bombs exploding. The dust that had risen reminded him of the smoke from the fires and the dust of the dead on the battlefield. He felt himself suffocating, not knowing if it was smoke from the magic fire or something worse.

He staggered backwards, backing the door back up, and leaned on the doorframe outside, coughing and gasping with one arm over the nasal openings and the orbit watering by the soot of the magic fire. 

He had to get out of there (there is nowhere to go, everything was burning!). He had to find his unit (they were all dead, dead!). He had ...

Suddenly the sound of loud laughter tore him from the battlefields that his broken mind insisted to revive.

A group of children ran past him, their laughter echoing in his mind long after they were gone. He opened his stunned orbits (which weren't really burning) and looked around.

He was at home, in his homeland, so far from those fields abandoned by the Angel that just the simple idea seemed like a bad joke.

He looked at the Coffe Shop at the end of the street where a couple came out with paper cups in hand and bags with some treats. The brief glimpse of the children's colored stripes as they disappeared around the corner. Across the street, a monster opened the door and left and he could hear the song from some radio playing in that brief moment. A motorcycle went down the street, its rider waving to a group of teenagers who waved back excitedly... 

The everyday scenes of a peaceful afternoon.

All the small, quiet moments that his mind could not fully comprehend, but that somehow reassured him. The knot in his soul loosened and he took a deep breath.

He was fine, he was fine.

He was in the "real world" (even if it looked more like a fairy tale than anything else), he was no longer at war, he was no longer on the battlefield, or...

He shook his head and refused to think. Fuck the past! He was fine, and he was going to prove it (to whom? Who was there to prove something? Everyone was dead, and those who were not, knew he was not well).

Reviewing the breathing exercises that Toriel had taught him (and wasn't it ironic that a breathing exercise was useful for a monster that did NOT need to breathe?) He straightened up and went back inside.

Now that his orbit was not burning with dust (ordinary dust, not that of his teammates or his enemies) he can see a little bit of the interior. Although the window was dusty, it was large and lit up well in front of you.

There was not much there. A small table with two wooden chairs, a counter on the opposite wall and behind it the entrance to a passage steeped in shadows, which probably led to the rest of the house.

Toriel had told him that this was one of the last properties acquired by Asgore. He had bought it some time ago and was "renovating" or something. Apparently he intended to move there and open some kind of establishment to spend his retirement. 

Of course the war will break out and everything will blow up (literally).

There were a few vases scattered around the place with the remains of its former residents still in them and a bookcase attached to a wall, behind the table with the chairs, completely empty (except for the thick layer of dust). Other than that, there was nothing else there.

Blood analyzed everything with a critical eye. The ceiling and floor looked in good condition, they just needed a good cleaning and maybe a painting. The bookcase looked solid, as well as the counter, table and chairs seemed to be fine, but he would have to check it more closely before risking using it.

Taking care to lock the door, he activated the magic that allowed him to see in the dark and went on to explore the rest of the house. He quickly checked behind the counter, where he found another vase with a dried plant, a desk phone and some old pamphlets.

The passage led to a corridor with two doors, each on one side and at the end a hall with a staircase. He moved quickly to the first door and discovered it was a kitchen.

He looked quickly at the room, mentally noting that he was going to need to buy a coffee maker (obviously, Asgore was a tea man, not a coffee man) and thanking him that there was a microwave.

Since there was no foul smell there, he assumed the refrigerator must be empty (but better not to risk it, he didn't want to have to deal with a “gas bomb” if he was wrong).

He advanced to the other door. It was a small office, or it should be. There was only a table and chair, two metal files and more pots of dead plants.

He closed the door that creaked and turned back to the stairs. There was a door under it. An entrance to the basement probably. He checked the door and realized it was locked.

Well, he would test the keys he received later and see if any would open it. Controlling himself not to get carried away by the paranoia that arose in leaving an unchecked place behind (he repeated to himself that he was locked, but he sharpened his hearing just in case).

He started up the stairs and was pleased to notice that some steps creaked (it would be a good and cheap warning system). So far everything was going very well (except for the near-disaster at the entrance, but he had somehow overcome it, right? Maybe he was really getting better!).

On the second floor there were a little more signs that someone had once inhabited that place.

There was what looked like a small living room on one side, with some furniture covered by sheets. He pulled them over, covering the nasal openings into the rising dust cloud.

A sofa, a reading chair, a standing lamp, a small table next to the chair and a bookcase. He looked approvingly, already imagining himself lying on the couch with a beer watching some TV show (that is clear if the old TV stored in the deposit still worked).

Leaving the room, and his dreams of nights (and perhaps days) of inactivity watered with alcohol and bad programs he continued down the hall. 

A small bathroom (needed new shower curtains), a bedroom with a double bed (reminder: talk to Toriel if she didn't want that mammoth bed. Don't even think he was going to have a bed that was practically a field football), a wardrobe, a dresser and a broken lamp.

He left the room already imagining himself sleeping on the sofa for the time being (for those who had spent a lot of time sleeping in sleeping bags, uncomfortable hospital beds, or even on the hard floor, he had no doubts that he could sleep anywhere, in fact any soft surface already it was a luxury) and went to the last door. Maybe it was another office or a guest room and he could ...

His thoughts died abruptly when he opened the door.

_...oh!_

Blood stood with his hands on the doorknob, looking sadly into what was clearly a children room. 

The other rooms were only sparsely furnished or decorated, but this one was complete.There was a small bed, a dresser, a wardrobe and a toy chest. There were pictures and curtains, a lamp and a rug, stuffed animals and even a small trophy on a shelf surrounded by cobwebs. 

He lowered his eyes and closed the door, not quite sure what to do with the small sanctuary Asgore had set up for a son who would never return home.

He would think about what to do next, there was still a lot to do before he cared about it (there was only one thing he was sure of, if it were up to him, Toriel would never know about that room).

There was another staircase at the end of the hall. He started to climb them and a strange sensation took him with each step.  
He stopped in front of the simple door and studied it critically. There was magic there. Strong magic! Whatever Asgore kept in that room was being protected by something powerful.

Blood considered whether to turn away and walk away, wait for backup before venturing into a place with such heavy magic.

He straightened his shoulders and growled. Fuck it! That was his home now! He could have lost an "eye", had a hole in his skull and several cracks in his psyche, but he was not a coward, he was not going to endanger others... and honestly, we are talking about Asgore! The guy who grew flowers and served tea even to enemies. The monster that volunteered in schools and orphanages, he would not put something dangerous in the house he intended to live in (even though he had personally seen the damage that same monster was able to do in enemy lines).

With a nod, he grabbed the round handle and turned it, opening it all at once and immediately being blinded by bright light.

Blinking his magic to get used to the sudden change he focused on his other senses. He immediately smelled green and a cool breeze had washed over him. 

An open window maybe? That would explain all that light ... but there was too much light to be a window, maybe some form of magic... or a skylight maybe? He looked up and felt his chin loosen in surprise.

The ceiling... was gone.

What a hell! He thought bitterly, he should have imagined that everything was going very well, of course the roof had to have collapsed and now he would have to have it rebuilt and....

He frowned, trying to understand what he was seeing when his eye light turned to the floor.

Ok... he had smelled green, but as soon as he saw the sky he had imagined that it was due to the state of mold that the place must have been. Only the Angel knew how long it had been like this, but certainly enough time for the water to have gone in there and done its damage to the wood and plaster, but due to the state of green that I was seeing it must have happened not a few months ago or years ago .... but more like decades!

He wanted to pull his damaged orbit, not that it was going to help, but he must be crazy, that could only be the answer to what his “good eye” showed. He stared at the grass between his feet and nudged it, even under his thick-soled shoes he could feel its softness, and okay, there could even be some kind of bush growing there, But hell, that wasn't just a bush... it was a fucking forest!

He took a step forward trying to absorb his surroundings better. Okay, forest was overkill, but grove? No, he didn't know what the right name was, but hell there were trees there!

Had he been transported? He turned quickly and there was the door he saw with relief, and also the wall that she was attached to. He followed her with my eyes spinning slowly. Yes, certainly there was the end and the beginning of another, he looked ahead again. Not a transport spell, but certainly an extension spell. He could not see the end of the side walls, nor the end of the room itself.

Of course, there was also the possibility that it was only the vegetation that covered it, but even so, if it weren't an extension in length it would be in depth (after all, how could trees grow inside a house if there was no depth to their roots?)

He calculated whether to explore or not. On the one hand it was fascinating and mysterious, on the other he didn't want to suddenly discover that everything was just a shell and as soon as he started walking the ground really gave way (after all Asgore had been gone for a while... his magic couldn't last for always, Boss monster or not).

Damn it! If he was going to die in a collapse, so be it (and wouldn't that be ironic? He hadn't died from a shitty grenade exploding over his head, but he would have died from collapsing along with a wood hidden in his ex-superior's house).

He started walking, trying to absorb as much as he could. There were a multitude of plants there. He was not an expert, but he could recognize some species. There were some flowers, fruitful shrubs, and even some medicinal plants that he knew most intimately.

He had been exploring for a few minutes, taking care to keep at least some part of the walls in view when he felt it. All his bones froze as his senses widened.

Someone was watching him.

He stood, trying to locate where the invader was. Whoever it was seemed not to want to show off.

He thought about what to do. He couldn't go out and leave an invader there. He did not know the location and could have an escape route of his own. For the same reason, he hesitated to move forward. He didn't know the terrain, it would be easy to fall into a trap or ambush.

He ducked just as a white bullet flew past him.

-Who's there? - He growled, conjuring a sharp bone as he turned to where the projectile had come from. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary (as if something there was normal!).

-Go-go away! - a shaky voice answered from somewhere to his right. 

He became furious.

-Come on your cowardly rat, show up!

-No-not a m-mouse! - Exclaimed the indignant voice.

Blood spun again and could make out a slight movement of a thicket. He froze. It was either a very small monster, or a child. He swallowed and thought he was really crazy when he broke his attack.

-Hey kid, don't be scared ok? Just get out and let's talk, I promise I won't hurt you. - Risked.

-Pro-promise?

Shit! He was right, it was a kid's drug. Maybe some kid from the neighborhood who had invaded the place.

-I promise. - even crossed over your soul to guarantee.

The grass rustled and a round face peered between the flexible stems before standing timidly. 

Blood blinked again, vaguely wondering if he really had died down there and it was all a post-life joke, because by Asgore's sweaty underwear, he was looking into the face of a flower!

Or was it a flower with a face? A face in a flower...?

Okay, come on! It's not like he knew everything, it was perfectly plausible that there was a flower-like monster out there (even though he had never heard of it).

-Hum... Howdy?! - the flower greeted uncertainly. Blood shook his head to clear it.

-Uh... hi?! - greeted as uncertain as the flower. The two stared at each other in silence until he exploded. -You are a flower!

The flower stared at him for a few seconds, before looking down and then turning to him in shock.

-Oh gosh! You're right! How did I never notice this before?

Irony made him cringe inside. Sure he deserved it! But hell in his defense he felt like Alice after falling into the Rabbit hole, so forgive the monster with a hole in the head for figuring out the obvious, after finding a garden in his attic and a talking flower in it.

-And since we're talking about the obvious, you're a skeleton! - the flower seemed to have gained some confidence with its silence. Blood frowned, unsure whether he liked it or not.

-Right. And what are you doing here?

-What do you mean? I live here! What are you doing here? - the flower demanded.

Blood didn't even stop to think (his head was already spinning, it was better to go on autopilot before he started having a headache).

-Well I live here too... or rather I will live. This house is mine now.

-What?! No, no, no! This is dad.. I mean Asgore house. You cannot invade other people's homes just because the owner is not there. This is trespassing and wrong!

The little flower caught its breath and Blood cut it before it started to give a lecture on illegal appropriation of properties.

-No, this house is mine now. Asgore is dead and Toriel gave it to me, so nothing illegal here.

He almost covered his mouth with his hands when he saw the flower wither. His petals falling, his black eyes getting bigger and he could have sworn the whole flower paled before opening his trembling mouth.

-Di-died? - spoke in a whisper.

Great Blood!! He made the poor child cry... Stars! How could he have broken the news like that? This little monster clearly saw Asgore as a father and he hadn't even stopped to analyze what he was going to say.

He sighed thinking about how to fix it, but he only managed a weak "Sorry kid..." before the flower sniffed, cringed into itself and sank into the earth leaving behind a hole and the echo of a single broken sob.

Blood stood there looking at the hole and feeling like the biggest shit on the planet. He sighed and plopped down on the soft grass, staring at the ceiling, or rather the sky that was quickly tinged with orange and purple.

He wondered when his life had become like this? A succession of tragic events and wrong choices (what a lie, he knew very well when... when he tried to be the hero he was not).

The idea that there might be other talking florets crossed his mind briefly, was that after all... a garden? It was entirely possible that there were others. And if so, he had better leave. He had been the bearer of bad news, it wouldn't be a surprise if they decided to attack him (and that would be deserved, wouldn't it?).  
Not that with their LV they could really hurt him (but if they were a big bunch... well it didn't hurt to dream).

He stayed where he was watching the clouds go by and trying to organize thoughts as scattered as the clouds above.

He should just take a look at the house, catalog the most urgent repairs to be made, the furniture he needed to buy / remove from the deposit (since Toriel had said he could keep everything he found there... of course it was not included in the offer. mini forest and talking flowers or otherwise he could have refused) and then return to the hotel where he was staying for the week, empty a pack of 6 and sleep until noon the next day.

He was divided as to whether he should go after the Flower (for what? Comfort them? He sucked at it! It would only do more damage), call Toriel (by the way, she had to deal with enough shit from him to deal with this one) and tell what he had discovered, go back to the hotel and drink until he forgot (and then call Toriel to deal with it).

He closed his eyes.

He just needed a moment to compose himself.  
From the earlier panic attack to the surprising (and sad) discoveries he was mentally exhausted.

It was getting too dark, he didn't want to have to go look for the flower in a forest (which only the Angel knew the size or what else it contained) or have to go down the stairs in the dark (after the Flower he didn't want to discover that the bunnies of dust were also sentient beings and were waiting for him at the stairwell).

-I already knew...

It was really lucky that he was just bones or else he would have jumped out of his skin with the fright he got when he heard the flower next to his skull. He literally jumped up and it was a miracle that he hadn't summoned a blaster and blew the plant out of existence.

-Dammit kid don't do something like that!

-Flowey! My name is Flowey, not kid! - the Flower sulked without looking at him.

-Hum... ok Flowey (Stars! That totally smelled like Asgore). - he sat down slowly in front of the Flower, or rather Flowey. - What did you know?

-That he's gone...- they sniffed and stared at the sky - I knew... it's been a long time and... and he said it wouldn't be long... so when he didn't come back... I knew. I just didn't want to believe...

Blood averted his face. - I'm sorry. Asgore was... He was a good monster.

The Flower nodded and looked at him. - And now?

-And now, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood weighs his options and makes a decision.

Blood had left Flowey in his garden (that's how the Flower will describe him and he was going to take their word, after all it was they who were the specialist, not him) and promised that he would come back the next day (after assuring him that by taking out a mouse , some insects and a family of birds on a crab apple tree at the end of the garden (there were no more living beings in the house).

He had taken a taxi back to the hotel and passed out in bed without bothering to take off his shoes (or open that expected pack in the fridge). Apparently the twists of the day were enough to drain him enough to sleep as soon as he had dropped off in bed and only wake up with the sun coming in through the window (and through the hole in your skull).

The feeling of having a very strange dream (something with Toriel as a queen ordering an army of flowers to bring her a bloody heart for a pie, but they found none because Asgore had stolen them all for her own tea party) had left him even more disoriented and had done nothing to convince himself that everything was no longer a bizarre dream in his broken mind.

(between Toriel wanting hearts and a talking flower, he bet on Toriel like a crazy and bloody Queen. Only those who had seen the goat monster giving orders and seeing decorated monsters shivering like leaves over his eyes knew the fear she could inflict).

He then pulled out the list he had written on his cell phone to guide him in case he got too confused or forgotten. He grimaced when he realized he had skipped dinner and therefore could not skip breakfast either, even if he was not hungry at all (he had to get used to his body and mind that he was no longer living on rations and no longer needed to ration food or go hungry. For that he had to maintain a routine and could not skip meals).

Well, one thing at a time. He decided to start with food, then left the hotel to go to the cafeteria on the corner. It was almost lunchtime, but who cared? Whether it was a mug of coffee and a turkey sandwich or or a seven-course meal, it was food no matter what the name or the order, as long as him ate something, it would be okay.

He sat at a table in a corner overlooking the door and the lounge and drained the coffee almost without tasting it, but the caffeine kick worked miracles for his system and he was a little more himself (or what was left of himself) ) after that.

While eating (small bites, chew before swallowing, try to enjoy your meal...) he analyzed everything that had happened the day before. 

Part of him wanted to dismiss everything as a dream or a delusion from his mind (it wouldn't be the first time) but the smell of grass on his coat (he should have changed it before he left, but who cared? At least it wasn't blood and dust) seemed enough proof that everything had been real (unless of course he had some sort of outbreak, he would wander around and roll around in some garden around. It could have been a possibility, but since he was not in prison or in a mental institution, he thought unlikely).

He finished his breakfast/lunch and pulled out his cell phone wondering if he should call Toriel or not. He should call her to give her feedback anyway, but what would he say?

_“Hi Tori! Yes, the house is fine, nothing that a broom and a hand of paint can't solve except for a damn attic garden... Oh and sure, the little flower monster that your husband apparently adopted in secret and has been living alone in that abandoned house for years!”_

Yeah, it wouldn't be a good start... Maybe probe if she knew if Asgore hadn't talked about some Flowey...

Honestly it seemed crazy that she didn't know about Flowey. After all Asgore always tried to find a reason to talk to her (and what better excuse than turning her attic into a garden and adopting a monster child whose type had never been heard of?). 

Although the subject of children was kind of taboo for both of them... he couldn't imagine Asgore telling Toriel that he had adopted a child (let alone imagine that Toriel didn't have one or a thousand things to say about it to him). Much less that she would have abandoned him there alone for so long if she knew anything about him.

Okay, he was going to call and... 

He remembered the room and the promise he had made to himself that she would never know about it... what if the room belonged to Flowey? But it was as dusty as the rest of the house... besides, those things there were for another type of monster (a little goat monster that would never play with stuffed animals, hang crayon drawings on the walls or wear boots of rain).

That room was definitely dedicated to his dead son Asriel and not Flowey, not to mention that he didn't even know if Flowey could leave the garden (and he didn't seem to need a bed, a lamp and much less a dresser).

He was sure that as soon as he told Toriel in the blink of an eye he would be there, comforting the kiddo, dealing with all this much better than he (obviously she would not make a blunder like breaking the news of a father's death as he did ), but if she came she could end up seeing the room (or taking the house back... and wasn't that what was really at the bottom of all this worry? That the boy could not leave and she decided to withdraw the offer and he would lose his best chance to start again... you disgusting piece of selfish shit!)

Ahhhh Damn! 

Why hadn't Asgore talked about Flowey in the will?!

Okay, he could imagine why. Toriel would probably resurrect him just to be able to kill him and piss in his dust.

But it was impossible for anyone to not know about the child. Asgore could not be so irresponsible of abandoning a child without the care of an adult, flower or not (unless all of Toriel's accusations were true and Asgore was really responsible for Asriel's death).

But then who would he tell?

The old goat had left almost everything for Toriel, taking some donations to institutions and small things distributed among some close colleagues. The only other person to receive anything else was Undy...

A twinge in his skull almost made him fold in two, while his nonexistent stomach tightened. Not! He wasn't going to think about her. He would not think of the ex-new war commander.

So who?

Gerson the retired old General was more senile than a mummy with Alzheimer's. Apart from the turtle, he didn't have that many close friends (a problem when you're a Boss monster).

Ah! There was Alphys! The shy military scientist was in the care of old Fluffybuns. He used to have tea with her often (always trying to get it out of its shell), maybe he should call her...

And how was she going to help him?!

Alphys could barely take care of herself (how many times was she scolded for spending too much time on her projects without even sleeping or showering, and just feeding on ramen?), Imagine a child! Furthermore, even as distracted as she was, she would certainly have already informed someone of an abandoned child (she would, wouldn't she? Nor would she hesitate for so long before alerting someone).

So what would he do? The most certain thing would be to call Toriel and get it over with (Toriel was the best, if not the only person who should deal with it). But he still hesitated. It wasn't just the room (or half-perceived selfish motives), there was something that kept him from calling Toriel.

Why had Asgore hidden the child?

There was something there. Fluffybuns wouldn't have kept a child a secret, not when he was at the front, knowing full well that he could die at any moment. And that question made him doubt whether to call Toriel.

(And let's face it, the guy had a lot of flaws, but he was also a big monster. He was dead and a part of him, even seeing the full proof of one of his flaws, didn't want to further denigrate his image)

What to do then? He could stay at the hotel for a while (he had enough money for it), only the idea of living in a place surrounded by other strangers filled him with discomfort, but he couldn't just pretend that there isn't a child living in the attic (even if that attic was a garden and the child a flower).

Urgh! His head was hurting...

The answers were with the Flower. He had to talk to Flowey and find out what he could before making a decision.

Probably Asgore left instructions on what to do in his absence, or who to contact in an emergency (really any kind of instructions would be very welcome now).

Right! He would talk to Flowey and then look for Toriel, or whoever it was that would fix it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood and Flowey talk and Blood (no) gets the answers he wanted.

-You came back!!

He had barely stepped into the garden and Flowey had literally sprung up in front of him.

-For the stars! Don't scare me like that!! - He scolded, controlling himself not to form an attack.

\- I'm sorry. - the flower withered and Blood moved in discomfort for once again disturbing the child.

-Ok... 

The two were silent. Blood was full of questions, but he didn't want to touch Asgore's name and make Flowey even more unhappy. 

-So...

-Do you want to see the garden? - Flowey cut him off, going back to cheer up.

-Ehhhh... - Blood could care less about a bunch of plants (unless it was to know if she wasn't going to collapse on the lower floors and Flowey had assured him the day before that it wouldn't happen) but seeing hope in those black buttons he had no way of saying no. - Sure kid. Show me around.

The flower vibrated with happiness and began to advance, disappearing into the earth and reappearing a few meters ahead. Blood followed him as he showed him the various plants and flowers around him.

The kid spoke with enthusiasm, citing scientific names and small curiosities, complaining about how irritating it was to make that plant not dominate the space of another or how difficult it was to avoid certain pests in others.

Blood only listened with half his attention. He could tell that Flowey was very alone by the way he delighted in Blood's meager attention, almost like ... well, like a flower absorbing sunlight he would say.

-Why are you here? - he blurted out at a time when Flowey stopped talking about the difference between two plants with long, dark leaves (which for Blood were exactly the same) and was getting ready to talk about some other curiosity in the garden.

-Hmm? - Flowey turned confused - Where else would I be?

-I mean... why didn't you leave when you realized - he stopped and hurried to rephrase his question - that you were alone?

-I'm a flower. - Flowey spoke slowly - No legs, - he looked at the ground where his stem disappeared for effect - there is no way for me to go down the stairs.

Blood almost pointed out that he got around very well, but then the place was full of dirt, the same could not be said for the rest of the house.

-Ookaay. - At least one less question. As he supposed, the flower couldn't leave the garden. 

-But why didn't anyone come? I mean, I know Asgore didn't plan ... - in his haste to finally get some answers, he didn't even notice that he had touched the old goat's name, but managed to shut up before digging his grave further. - go.

Seeing Flowey's blank expression, he hurried on.

-He had to have a containment plan in case... he took too long to come back.

Flowey shook his face in denial.

-No, no. I am a flower... this garden is all I need. As long as I stay here I'll be fine. I don't need anything anymore.

-But you were alone. - Flowey didn't deny it. Blood scratched the cap on his head feeling the frustration building - I should call Toriel...

-NO!

Blood retreated from the flower's ferocity.

-Nothing from Toriel! I don't want her here! - He shouted, looking very angry. The flower suddenly shrank, losing all its resolution and stammering - If you call... I ... And I will hide!

Blood was silently surprised by the explosion. - Ok... ok. - He tried to reassure him (and himself. The explosion had not done any good to his already stressed nerves with the whole situation) -But I can't just ignore this whole situation. I have to tell someone, you can't be here alone. If not Tori, then who?

-I can not stay here? I don't know if I can live anywhere else ... I always lived here... - the kid looked around desolate making Blood's nonexistent heart squeeze.

-Listen kiddo - he started trying to reassure him. Now more than ever he didn't want to take the little monster's home - that's not the problem ... - he scratched his head again (controlling the urge to scratch the edges of his wound under the hat).

-I promise to be silent! You don't even need to know that I'm here! - he pleaded.

Hell! The house was not the problem. He was already resigned to abandoning it and looking for another place to live.

-Flowey listen. I know that it is terrible to lose the father, and believe me I am not here to expel him from his home, but look, I cannot (or want) to raise a child. And I can't even leave you here and pretend you don't exist!

-Oh! Is this what worries you? No problem, because I am not a child. - the flower replied with simplicity.

Blood just smiled in amusement. Children and their titles!

-Teenager then? - shrugged. Honestly his age group didn't matter, it was problems anyway (and he was already full of them).

-No, no! I want to say that I am not a monster, therefore not a child. - the flower explained slowly. As if speaking slowly it would be easier to understand the absurdity of his words.

Blood looked at him with suspicious attention. What kind of trick was that now?

\- How come you are not a monster? - He almost snarled.

The flower shrank a little and without looking at him asked timidly.

-Pro-promise you won't go crazy?

Blood opened his mouth in surprise, but closed it again. He felt a little embarrassed and scolded himself. It didn't matter if the little one wanted to deceive or confuse him, Blood was the adult there and couldn't take out his frustration and distrust on him.

He touched his ribs and spoke solemnly. - I promise.

Monsters like him did not give their promise lightly, but if it was to calm the child (and come on, only that attitude was all that of a child!) He would do it. Besides, what could he say that would irritate him like that? He couldn't imagine anything that would make him angry with the little one (even if his genius proved otherwise).

Flowey took a deep breath before starting.

-I'm not a monster, but a flower. Literally! - He completed when he saw the incredulous face that Blood was making. Blood blinked and smirked.

-Flowers don't speak. At least not in the way you're talking.  
Flowey snorted.

-Well yes, but I'm a magical flower... kind of.

-Kind of? - More and more he was enjoying Flowey's invention.

Flowey agreed and began to tell the story of how it came into being.

He was just a golden flower from a garden, but one day he "woke up" and Asgore found him scared and alone. The goat monster had put it in a vase and brought it here. 

Then he had created the garden with magic and taught him how to use his magic to maintain it until the magic became independent and could sustain it in return. As Asgore had taught him and he had taught Asgore just because he was a plant and he knew what every little life in that garden needed.

Blood listened in silence, increasingly impressed and confused. What Asgore had done there was basically to transform the attic into a magical ecosystem, in which at first he fed his place with magic until the place produced its own magic and so he could feed himself and feed Flowey too.

Impressive, but not so surprising. It was a common phenomenon in some clusters of monsters, which he had achieved with just two monsters (or one and a half according to Flowey, although being a chief monster Asgore had plenty of magic to do so) it was incredible.

But Flowey's part was strange.

Of course, magic could sometimes be unpredictable (after all it was a natural power, and just like nature was sometimes unpredictable), but give a flower “consciousness”? How and why? (if it was just chance, then why were there no more talking flowers? Of course it could be an evolution of Flores Eco, but Flowey was yellow and not blue, and much smaller than an Eco Flower.

So many questions, so few answers. Each time he answered one, two more appeared.

There was something missing there, but Flowey didn't seem to be lying or making up to hide something. He really believed what he was saying. Which meant that either he was deceived or... it was just too crazy for this whole story to be true.

-You don't believe me. -Flowey accused.

-Hum... listen, it's not that I don't believe it, it's just... - he started carefully, thinking about how to deal with the situation without it seeming that he didn't believe in Flowey (because he believed in him, or rather he believed that he mistakenly believed that he was just a magically sentient vegetable).

-Just check me! - Flowey cut him off.

Blood looked at him suspiciously, but shrugged. If the boy himself was saying to do it, what was wrong?

He was definitely not ready for what he would see.

The world becomes black and white when he triggers his magic to envelop the magic of the flower. Like any monster he can see it in front of you, but that's it. He can trigger his magic for an attack... and that's it. There is no HP reading, defense or attack! There is nothing besides your name, your will and your magic.

Blood ended the connection sparing him and had to close his sockets while he sat down slowly on the grass and rested his head on his knees. He felt like he was going to pass out.

Flowey told the truth and he is just a flower, a literal fucking flower (one with magic and conscience, but still a damn plant). How was that possible? AS??

-Uh... a-are you okay? - he heard Flowey approach and the hesitation in his voice, but did not turn to face him.

-No.

-A-are yo-you mad? - the shaky question took him out of his trance and he finally faced the flower. He can feel that Flowey was about to flee. 

Blood shook his head. Scared yes, confused for sure, angry...? No. Why would he be mad? He asked Flowey that.

-Well... Asgore said that if other people knew about me they would be furious!

Now this is strange.

Okay, maybe Toriel would be irritated (murderer, more precisely) that he is taking care of a child, but furious with Flowey? I do not think so.

Maybe Asgore said that to try to keep it with him? He could imagine that Asgore would not want people find out him and run the risk of losing Flowey (even more after he had already lost a child).

Oh well, another mystery for later (these were piling up, like like leaves in gutters).

-No Flowey, I'm not angry. - He risked reaching out and patting the petals lightly. Flowey seemed a little confused by the act, but seemed to be encouraged by the statement.

He stretched and lay down on the grass (thankfully he hadn't changed his jacket).

-I think I understand a little now (a lie he was even more lost than before). So Asgore created this garden for you to stay here.

-Not necessarily. - Blood looked at him inquisitively and he added - Originally he was thinking of creating a small vegetable garden in the basement. Just a few plants to make tea and sell it at the store downstairs. 

-When he brought me here his project was too small to support me. He said they couldn't expand in the basement, something to do with the magic of other houses. But the attic gives way to heaven and magic flows into space. 

-Ah! So that was the old goat's retirement plan. A tea house... It was his face... - At least something made sense.

-Yes... it was... - the flower wilted again.

Okay, quick change of subject.

-So what are we going to do? I still can not...

-I already said I'm not a child! I lived all this time alone and kept everything in order alone! I don't need a drool - he said petulant before withering - But I would enjoy some company from time to time...

He spoke peeking through the petals timidly.

Blood rubbed his teeth. Well, being 100% sincere, he would also enjoy some company (not all the time, but since he had the advantage of going out and being unable to be followed he didn't think that was a problem).

He was really crazy if he was considering it... but what options did he have? Flowey didn't want to talk to Toriel (he could only imagine what Flowey had heard from Asgore for that attitude... although Asgore had never criticized Tori before, maybe it was just parental loyalty that made him not want to get involved with the father's ex-wife), he couldn't just tell someone.

(He still didn't know the reasons, but he feared that Asgore might have a very good one for not telling anyone about Flowey, and and he feared to put his foot in his hands when revealing Flowey to others without knowing what those reasons were)

All that was left was to pretend he didn't know anything and never go back to the attic (it definitely wasn't going to happen. He was good at pretending not to see his problems, but this was a little difficult to "bury"), or accepting and “sharing” the house with Flowey, after all he was not going to expel him from there (even more so when he said he would not survive outside the garden).

Yeah... he was going to do that.

-So... - he started controlling the smile that threatened the corner of his teeth when more of the expectant face showed behind the yellow petals - would we be something like... housemates?

The flower stretched out radiantly. Seriously he could have sworn she was shining.

-Yes! Yes! Let's be housemates!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and comments are welcome!!


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